Taking Flight - Short Story

Taking Flight

There he lay. Encompassed by a stifling heat, dwarfed by the yawning chasm that marred the flat and endless landscape like a jagged scar. A clump of straggling ghost gums waved their pale limbs almost mockingly, as if to say "You puny human, you could hardly survive a pinprick."A croak that could be interpreted as "water" escaped his lips, which were almost as dry and cracked as the scorched orange earth itself. Constant rumbling from far below him indicated that a river swept none too gently within the gaping crack next to which he so helplessly lay. A gentle breeze swept through the dull atmosphere, which was heavy with dust and heat. Through his eyes the world began to fade. It was as though the flat, sunburnt land, which expanded much farther than the eye could see, was closing in on him. A lone hawk soared far above him, looking as if it had not a care in the world. It was soon joined by another, and they began to perform an eerie, swerving dance which was understood only by themselves. Suddenly, a strange sensation spread through his limp body. It was as if his heart had cracked open, yet pain was non-existent. An immense sense of love for all things poured, like the raging river below, from where it had sat, building up for decades. As he took his last breath, the man's eyes rested on the carefree hawks. Then everything went black, as his human eyes closed for the last time.

But that love lived on. And if you happen to be in the exact place where that man's body once lay, you may observe not two, but three hawks dancing with the wind.